


A Cold Day In the Jury Selection Room

by SnowWhiteKnight



Series: Holidays [14]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gregor and Sandor are friends in this universe, Hate crimes suck, Holidays, Judge Tyrion presiding!, Jury Duty, May 1 - Law Day, Mild Language, Sansa swears!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jury duty sucks. This is also a PSA. Sort of. Not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold Day In the Jury Selection Room

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is kind of all over the place. I had jury duty a few weeks ago, ended up writing this. Yay. Also, I'm a day late posting it. Bah. That should be the series name. "Holidays - A Day Late".

She sat in the coffee shop of the courthouse, waiting for her order. Sansa sighed heavily. She _hated_ jury duty. It was so boring and she never got picked for a panel, which meant she ended up sitting in the cold jury selection room nearly all day for nothing. At least it was only one day. Her order finally came and after dumping four packets of sugar and two creamers in it, she took her coffee with her back to her prison for the day.

The woman who scanned her juror badge gave her a friendly greeting and though she didn't feel very friendly in return, Sansa remembered her courtesies and gave her a cheerful reply.

 _Sandor would scoff at that._ The thought brought a smile to her face. Her boyfriend of nearly four months was a constant source of happiness for her, despite his sometimes sour moods. Arya found it ridiculous, but Sansa never felt more sure of anyone in her life. A small ruckus turned her attention to the front of the room.

"What the fuck did you say to me!?" _Speak of the devil...or maybe it’s “think” in this case..._

She hurried to the large man who was glaring daggers at a smaller, older man. He looked surprised. "Sandor, what's wrong?"

Startled, he looked at her like she had surprised him naked, but then glared at the other man again. "Nothing, must have misheard."

She took his hand and lead him away, giving curt apology to the other man in Sandor's stead. They sat together at the end of the last row of chairs.

"Didn't expect to see you here," he muttered as she clipped her badge to her shirt.

"Same for you. But on the plus side, I can go home with you. I took the bus here. Did you really mishear what that man said?" she asked in a gentle voice.

He breathed in deep. "No. But I probably shouldn't cause trouble on the potential first day of jury duty."

"Hopefully the only day. What did he say?" she asked as she offered him some coffee. He took it, made a face because he knew how much sugar she put in her coffee, but drank half of what was in the cup. She took the moment to appreciate Sandor. He was wearing the shirt she had picked out for him when they went clothes shopping last month, a dark grey button-up, and black slacks, also something she had encouraged him to buy. They made his butt look even better than it usually looked and it always look fantastic. He had apparently taken the courthouse dress code very seriously. She felt a little dowdy in her casual attire.

"Asked the person next to him if they allowed obvious felons to serve, then pointed to me."

"I'll kill him!" she hissed and stood up quickly only to be yanked back to her seat.

"If I shouldn't be making trouble, you shouldn't either, little bird." He chuckled, squeezed her hand and kissed her temple, then said, "but I appreciate the attempt." Despite the cold air of the room, she suddenly felt very warm. She wanted to say something, anything, so that the _thmp thmp thmp_ of her heartbeat would slow down, but the tap of the microphone over the loudspeaker drew both of their attention.

"Please rise for the honorable Judge Tyrion Lannister," the bailiff called out. _Oh! That must be Jaime’s brother._ A mass shuffle of people rising, she could still see above the heads of most of them. She couldn't see anyone enter the room though, but she soon heard a voice speaking clearly.

"Good morning, everyone. Since you are already standing, please raise your right hand and repeat after me, I solemnly swear that I will speak the truth, and keep an open mind to any jury I may serve on."

"Be seated," the bailiff said. Another mass shuffling and Sansa found herself squeezed in between Sandor and a man who had snuck into the row at the last minute. She felt uncomfortable next to the mint scented man until Sandor put a protective arm around her. She scooted as close to him as possible, reveling in the close proximity and his clean, slightly woodsy scent. She ignored the disgusted scoff of the mint man.

She was surprised to find that Jaime’s brother was a man with a sense of humor. “Alright, who here is excited to serve their country?” A few people raised their hands and many more laughed. “Ah, that was a test! No one is excited for jury duty! Now, who here is _happy_ to fulfill their civic duty, despite not being excited about it?” Many people raised their hands, including Sansa. “Good, good. Now, if you have any excuses to present, please form a single line and we will go through them as quickly as possible.” The jury selection room had a general hum of chatter and activity as people started to get up and move around.

"Want to get lunch together?" she asked Sandor quietly.

"What if we get picked for different panels?"

"This is my fourth time in jury selection. I never get picked." She leaned her head on him. "You?"

"You're overdue then. Usually end up on a panel but have yet to be picked for an actual jury. I guess, if either of us gets picked, then we'll text each other once we get out?" She felt hopeful at his words.

"Ok."

**********

She got picked for the very first panel. Of all the luck! Now she was standing outside the 103rd district court, on the third floor of the courthouse, with a bunch of other people and her coffee long gone, waiting for the remainder of the panel to join her and hoping that Sandor would get picked for it too. It was a panel of eighty, and her name was the first to be called, so there was still a small chance he could still be picked. Alas, only the mint man was familiar to her among her fellow panelists, and _THAT_ was only because he came up to her and reeked even more heavily of mint than before. It was a hard scent to forget. It wasn't even a pleasant mint, like wintergreen or spearmint, it was something worse than peppermint.

"My dear, it is so lovely to see you again. You may not remember me, but I'm a friend of your mother's, Petyr Baelish. I’ve visited your shop a time or two." He smiled widely and gave her a once over that made her feel like she need a scouring hot shower. "I wasn't sure if that was you until they said your name. How is Cat doing these days?"

 _Petyr Baelish is Mother’s friend?_ She recognized him as a frequent...well, he almost never bought anything, so she couldn’t call him a customer, but he would often come to her shop and had introduced himself in such a way that even Brienne, who was on break from her shop and visiting Sansa, had been thoroughly creeped out. She was also now uneasy since he had certainly never mentioned _that_ before. She didn’t recall her mother ever mentioning him either, and her family name was known well enough for people to have basic facts like her mother's name or how many siblings she had. Best to stay neutral in times like these.

"She's well. Thank you for asking," she said with a small, tight smile. She began to turn away from the man when he continued speaking.

"I noticed the man you sat next to downstairs was a bit familiar with you. He owns the gun shop across the street from your shop, doesn’t he? Surely your dear mother wouldn't approve of such a brute," he said with a sniff.

Sansa gaped at him before responding, "That _brute,_ as you called him, is my boyfriend. Do not judge him on his appearance."

"Forgive me, but it is difficult to make any other assumption about a man with a face like that and who dresses like he's in a music video for a metal rock band." Baelish put his hand on her arm in what she supposed was a sympathetic manner.

"I helped him pick out that shirt and the pants, thank you very much, and I think he looks rather dashing!" she exclaimed in suppressed fury.

Baelish let go of her arm in surprise. "Oh, I... I'm sure he's a fine young man, my dear, it's just that appearance is so important in this world. I did not mean to upset you, let me make it up to you. I can take you, and your friend, out to lunch. A five star restaurant. What do you say?"

It was tempting, especially if Sandor could be there, but she still didn't know if this man was even telling the truth about knowing her mother and she didn’t like that he had referred to Sandor as her _friend_ when she had clearly mentioned he was more than that.

"I will think about it. In the meantime, please excuse me, I need to powder my nose."

As soon as she got to the restroom she pulled out her phone and called her mother. Catelyn Stark answered on the first ring. _"Sansa! My darling girl, how are you? Don't you have work today?"_

"Mother, I'm well, I'm at jury duty today actually. Sandor's here, too. Complete coincidence. Oh, it’s why I’m calling you, I ran into a man who says he knows you, Petyr Baelish."

_"Petyr Baelish? Oh, yes, we grew up together. I haven't thought of him in ages. However did you make the connection?"_

"I didn't, he did, when he saw me and heard my name. He asked me out to lunch, to make it up for insulting Sandor to my face. He's invited Sandor as well. I didn't remember you ever mentioning him, so I thought I should check with you first."

 _"Yes, well, we didn't part on the best of terms. He is a nice enough person, but I would prefer you stay away from him if you can,"_ she said.

"Of course, Mother. I should go though. I’ll call you later,” Sansa said.

_“Have a good day, darling, and say hi to Sandor for me.”_

**********

She was disappointed to see that Sandor was definitely not in the same panel as her, but she also managed to sit on the other end of the room as Mr. Baelish, so it wasn’t a total loss. The attorneys took turns asking questions, to the entire panel and then to individuals. Sansa answered as honestly as she could, but secretly hoped that she wouldn’t be picked. It was a hate crime and an assault case involving two men in a backalley. Oddly enough, the larger of the two men was the victim, a gay man who had been tricked, thinking someone needed help, and then was brutally attacked. The questions the two attorneys were asking were starting to paint the picture and it seemed awfully familiar to Sansa. When the prosecutor asked if anyone thought they should be excused from the case, Sansa raised her hand. A few others did as well, but she was the closest and the prosecutor waved her over first.

“Ms…….Stark? Why should you be excused from the case?” he asked with a megawatt smile.

“I believe I might know the victim,” she said. “Gregor Clegane?”

The attorney’s eyebrows went up. He sort of reminded her of Jaime, but less golden and more sunshine. “How do you know him?”

“I’m dating his brother. I met Gregor the day he got out of prison, I was with Sandor when he went to pick him up. Anyway, I don’t think I can be unbiased towards whoever put him into the hospital. I would very much like to take a baseball bat to _his_ head like he did to Gregor,” she said.

“Ah, of course, then yes, I think it would be best if you were excused. Here,” he wrote a note for her. “Take this to the Jury window in the selection room. They’ll give you a certificate to take to work and you’re excused until you are summoned again. Have a good day, Ms. Stark.”

“Thank you, Mr. Marbrand.”

**********

She noticed Sandor was gone from the selection room, meaning he had probably been picked for a panel. She had to stand in line again for the Jury window. Thirty minutes in line later, she wondered why the window didn’t have any other designation besides “Jury”. _Is it for all jury related things? Is it for specifics like handing over notes from attorneys so that you can get your certificate that says you served your time? Who knows! They don’t say._ The person behind the window looked like she would rather be on fire than working at the ambiguous window. Sansa didn’t even see the point of getting her certificate, since she was her own boss and the sign out sheet at the exit would suffice, but she was dutiful and, hey, maybe she could frame it or something. Put a little engraved plate underneath it that said the date and, “The time Sansa actually got picked for a panel.”

Two more people ahead of her still. She pulled out her phone and was surprised to see a text from Sandor.

**PuppyLove: Just got out of panel. Was not picked.**

**ME!!: Same here, in selection room, picking up certificate.**

**PuppyLove: You know you don’t need it, right?**

**ME!!: I KNOW. But I want it. To frame. Maybe. Today is historic. First panel ever!!**

**PuppyLove: Whatever you say. Meet you outside?**

**ME!!: Ok <3 ** 

It took a few more minutes, but she got her Certificate of Service (which looked sadly homemade and not official at all) and bounded out the door to find Sandor. She found him sitting on a bench in front of a nice display of plant life. She thought nothing of sitting in his lap and purring her contentment. “You’re so _warm!”_

“Bit cold in there for you, then?” he asked, sliding his arm around her waist.

She nodded. “Want to go back to your place and _really_ warm me up?” she asked suggestively. His laughter made her think it came out more cute than seductive, but either way worked for her. They both turned when they heard a strangled cry behind them. “Oh, Mr. Baelish. You were dismissed, too?”

The man straightened his already straight tie, gave a delicate sniff and walked around the bench they were sitting on to speak to them. “My dear…”

“What the hell is he doing here?” Sandor asked.

“Ah, you see…” Sansa began, but Mr. Baelish interrupted her.

“I invited Sansa here to have lunch with me. I’m old friends with her mother, and I just wanted to catch up a bit,” he said.

 _“And_ to apologize for insulting my beloved boyfriend,” she added. She felt Sandor go still, but her eyes were on Baelish. He gave her a tight smile.

“Yes, and to apologize for insulting you, Mr. Clegane.”

“So, you’re trying to take my girl out on a date?” Sandor said, raising an eyebrow and giving the older man a look that Sansa liked to call ‘the patented Sandor glare’. Baelish paled a bit, but managed to only take two steps back.

“No, of course not. I was just...I was trying…” He was floundering and Sansa felt a little bad for him.

“He invited you as well,” she told Sandor. “But we have plans already, so I’m afraid we’ll have to pass on your offer, Mr. Baelish.”

“Oh, but…”

“I’m sure my _father_ would be delighted to know you send him and my mother your regards. He’s still practicing law in the same building as always, if you’d like to drop by and visit him,” she continued. Baelish blinked at that. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to make out sloppily for the next ten minutes, then grab some food on our way back to his place where he will proceed to fuck my brains out. I’d like to get started on that, so I will bid you a good day, Mr. Baelish.”

“I…”

_“Good day, Mr. Baelish.”_

“Uh...good day, San-- Ms. Stark, Mr. Clegane.” He walked away, a look of confusion on his face.

“Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer?” Sandor asked. Sansa laughed. "Beloved boyfriend? I didn't realize I had gotten to that status yet. I thought I was just your fuck buddy."

"You can be both. I don't mind," she said with a smile. 

He chuckled at that. “So, why’d you get dismissed so quickly?”

Sansa grew somber. “I...The case was about Gregor. I didn’t even have to hear a lot before I realized. The prosecutor seems fairly confident he’ll win.”

“Yeah, he’s old friends with Jaime Lannister, I think. If it’s the same guy, he’s got a good track record.” Sandor was looking absently at the flowers in front of them.

“Hey, how about we go visit Gregor? Take him some of that cake he likes?” she suggested.

“Yeah. I can always fuck your brains out this evening,” he said with a rueful smile. She blushed horribly, told him she'd be fine with that, and insisted he carry her piggyback to his truck so she could shower him with kisses to cheer him up.

**Author's Note:**

> The FBI defines a hate crime as "criminal offense against a person or property motivated in whole or in part by an offender’s bias against a race, religion, disability, sexual orientation, ethnicity, gender, or gender identity.” If you feel that you or someone you care about has been a victim of a hate crime, report it to the appropriate authorities.


End file.
